


The New and Improved Vivian Ward

by Potrix



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Stripper Bucky Barnes, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3585618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/pseuds/Potrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony likes to think that he’s grown out of this sort of behaviour and he has, mostly, after his little stint of playing prisoner to a bunch of terrorists for over three months, but after the week he’s had, well, who can blame him for wanting to sit back with some good bourbon and watch pretty men shake their butts for him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The New and Improved Vivian Ward

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt from my [winteriron blog](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/) on tumblr: "Imagine Bucky is a broke college student dancing at a club to pay his tuition. Tony is a the multi-billion dollar CEO of Stark Industries who's skiving off a meeting to blow off some steam, and decides that Bucky is going to make it all worth the angry shareholders the next morning."

“I wish you’d stop doing this,“ Steve sighs when Bucky steps out of his room, duffle bag with his costume slung over his good shoulder. “It’s not safe.”

Bucky groans at what must be the hundredth repetition of this particular argument, rolling his eyes and huffing out a breath, caught somewhere between annoyance and affection at what he knows is genuine concern coming from his friend.

“It’s just dancing,” he shrugs, grabbing his reusable bottle of water out of their worryingly empty fridge on his way through the kitchen.

Steve twists where he’s sprawled out on the narrow mattress that’s currently acting as a substitute couch with his drawing things, levelling Bucky with an unimpressed look. “That’s what you said last time and then Pierce-“

“Well, this is different!” Bucky snaps, then immediately feels guilty and shoots Steve a small, apologetic smile, voice softer when he continues. “Fury isn’t anything like Pierce, Stevie, you know that. Nothing shady about it, it really is just dancing this time.”

It’s not like Bucky can blame Steve for being suspicious, not after what’d happened at HYDRA. Sure, Bucky should’ve read the whole goddamned contract before signing the stupid thing, or at least booked it right out of there the moment he realised what else was expected of Pierce’s dancers, but hindsight is always 20/20.

But it could’ve been worse, even if Steve doesn’t like to hear it. Having some guy with a weird fetish for amputees groping him, punching the guy in the face and then getting fired on the spot for ‘mistreating a valued customer’ hadn’t been pleasant, but after the horror stories Bucky’d heard from some of the other HYDRA employees, he’s glad he got away when he did.

“Just be careful,” Steve says, chewing his bottom lip, “please?”

“Promise,” Bucky agrees and ruffles Steve’s hair as he walks by him, laughing at the indignant glare that earns him. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way home, okay?”

“Don’t clog the shower with your glitter shit,” Steve calls after him. “Again.”

Bucky laughs, then pops his head back into the room. “Oh, I almost forgot. Saw Peggy on my run this morning, she says hi and that she had a nice time at the museum the other day.”

Steve’s whole face flushes deep red and Bucky, cackling manically, only just barely dodges the eraser he throws at his head.

* * *

Tony likes to think that he’s grown out of this sort of behaviour and he has, mostly, after his little stint of playing prisoner to a bunch of terrorists for over three months, but after the week he’s had, well, who can blame him for wanting to sit back with some good bourbon and watch pretty men shake their butts for him?

Besides, if he’d actually gone to that meeting with Hammer, chances are it would have ended in tears. Literal ones this time. And maybe some bloody noses.

His phone is off, has been for the last five hours, and the waiter has stopped asking and simply keeps refilling Tony’s glass with a sultry smile, hand brushing over Tony’s arm, and definitely breaking SHIELD policy by slipping a piece of paper with his number into Tony’s coat pocket.

Not that Tony is going to take him up on it, he hasn’t sunken as low as taking advantage of strippers who probably hope for some sort of financial benefit by being seen with Tony Stark, but it’s a nice ego boost nonetheless.

And a conviction that flies right out of the window when the next dancer steps out onto the stage, making Tony’s jaw drop almost comically before he remembers himself and snaps his mouth shut, scooting forward until he’s on the edge of his seat, transfixed by the sight in front of him.

The guy is gorgeous, black leather pants clinging enticingly to his legs and crotch, tight tank top of the same colour leaving little to the imagination as he swings his hips to the music. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, eyes smeared with dark kohl and yeah, Tony notices the missing arm, but his gaze doesn’t linger when there’s suddenly miles of delicious pale skin and muscles to ogle.

Tony is a little bit in love and a lot in lust before the guy is even down to his thong.

* * *

Bucky doesn’t normally do this, accept these kinds of offers from customers - Fury would be, well, furious if he ever found out - but the guy is fucking hot in his figure-hugging suit, his smirk promising a night of fun as he stares at Bucky with hungry eyes, waiting for an answer.

And that’s before Bucky even recognises him and seriously, who’d turn down a roll in the hay with Tony Stark? The man is legendary, his reputation preceding him, and Bucky could use the pick-me-up.

Tips had been shitty that evening and after paying back the twenty bucks he’d borrowed from a colleague last week, Bucky isn’t sure he has enough left for food until payday, never mind the check-up he needs for his arm or Steve’s asthma medication.

Free clinic it is, once again.

Shaking himself out of his funk, Bucky puts on a playful smile, leering a little as he brushes his knuckles against the back of Stark’s hand. “Lead the way, handsome.”

In Bucky’s opinion, whatever’s coming is totally worth it for the limo ride alone.

He texts Steve after getting into the car, a quick, _‘Staying over at a friend’s.’_ to which Steve replies, sassy little punk that he is, _‘Use protection and call me in the morning so I know you’re not dead.’_

The moment he slides his phone back into his pocket, Stark is suddenly right in his personal space, one hand cupping Bucky’s jaw as he leans in and closes the space between their lips.

Bucky is definitely okay with that, moaning softly and letting his mouth fall open, his own hand tangling in Stark’s hair and tugging softly-

Stark pulls back at the embarrassingly loud grumble of Bucky’s stomach with a questioning, “Uh?”

Feeling his cheeks grow hot, Bucky buries his face in his hands, absolutely mortified. “Sorry, shit, I’m so sorry,” he says frantically, reaching out to pull Stark back in and probably failing to hide the hurt when Stark resists. “It’s fine, really. Don’t worry about it.”

Stark looks sceptical, moving to the opposite bench and rapping his knuckles against the partition, exchanging a few quiet words with the driver before finally returning to Bucky’s side, and then Bucky’s distracted by clever fingers sneaking under his shirt and sharp teeth nipping at his jaw.

He doesn’t realise where they’re going until the window rolls down to reveal a drive-through, the girl inside the little booth grinning at their dishevelled state as she chirps, “What can I get you?”

Bucky protests feebly but Stark insists and God, Bucky can’t even remember the last time he’d had a hot meal consisting of more than a bowl of ramen or day-old, reheated leftovers from Steve’s part-time job at the diner.

They eat while talking about this and that, Bucky revealing way too much about his personal life when Stark seems genuinely interested, eventually landing on robotics and clean energy, topics that remind Bucky that there’s actually an intelligent - and surprisingly funny and compassionate - man to be found behind the playboy exterior.

As soon as the door to Stark’s penthouse closes behind them, however, they are on each other again, hands wandering, clothes and Bucky’s bag flying everywhere, the contents spilling across the floor and neither of them caring overly much about the chaos.

They land on Stark’s bed in a tangle of limbs and it’s a few more minutes of grinding and making out before Bucky manages to draw back enough to ask, “How do you want me?”

“Condoms, bedside table,” Stark pants, nudging Bucky in the right direction.

He grabs the lube, too, because no way is he going to do this dry, but when he turns back around, Stark already has two spit-slick fingers buried inside himself, eyes twinkling mischievously as he holds out his free arm in invitation.

It’s unexpected, although definitely something Bucky can get behind. Or under. He’s not that picky.

He ends up with Stark’s legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he pushes into tight heat, Stark’s nails raking down his back and his lips against Bucky’s ear, moaning wantonly and whispering absolute filth.

Bucky feels himself starting to shake much too soon, grunting out a strangled, “Stark,” in warning.

“It’s Tony,” Tony keens, arching his back and canting his hips, “call me Tony.”

“Tony,” Bucky repeats dutifully, the word slurred and sloppy but earning him a teasing nip of his ear.

“That’s it, baby, so good,” Tony purrs, licking a stripe up Bucky’s neck. “You’re so good to me, so perfect. Let go, come on, let go, sweetheart.”

Gathering up the last of his remaining wits, Bucky curls a hand around Tony’s erection, giving it three hard strokes before Tony cries out and comes, painting both their bellies in stripes of white, the sudden increase of pressure around his cock sending Bucky crashing over the edge as well.

He pulls out carefully, flopping down on his back next to Tony and humming contentedly when he feels fingers brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead, followed by a pair of damp lips before Tony climbs out of bed.

Bucky considers putting his clothes back on and sneaking out to avoid the awkwardness of being asked to leave, but then Tony returns with a bottle of water and a wet cloth, handing the first to Bucky and straddling Bucky’s legs as he wipes him down gently.

Afterwards, Bucky allows himself to be rearranged until he’s snuggled up to Tony’s side, head resting on Tony’s chest with the blankets pulled loosely over their lower halves, Tony’s fingers rubbing slow, soothing circles into the back of his neck.

Not about to say no to the chance of a good night’s sleep in a real bed, Bucky presses closers and lets his eyes flutter shut, Tony a warm and comfortable presence under him.

* * *

Tony wakes up to the sensation of hot puffs of breath against his neck and a mop of mussed brown hair tickling his nose.

He turns his head just enough so he can see Bucky, a smile spreading across his face and his stomach flipping excitedly at the sight of the younger man still curled up against him.

It’s unusual, to say the very least, for Tony’s conquests to stay the night, but then again, Tony is still hoping that, maybe, Bucky could be more than that.

The looks were what had drawn him to Bucky initially, Tony can admit that, but he’d quickly learned how smart and quirky and generally good Bucky is during their conversation on the drive home.

He wants to get to know him better, every stupid movie cliché about older rich guys falling head over heels for exotic dancers be damned!

Quietly as not to wake Bucky, Tony slips out of bed with the plan to make - aka order - breakfast as a first step to introducing Bucky to the idea of continuing what they’d started the previous night, only to nearly trip over a folder lying on the living room floor.

Curious, Tony picks it up and perches on the arm of one of the chairs, completely forgetting about the time as he flips through it, only snapping back into the present at the sound of Bucky clearing his throat above him.

“These are really good,” Tony praises, holding out some of the blueprints for a pretty advanced prosthetic to cover his embarrassment at being caught snooping. “I mean, _really_ good.”

He watches Bucky duck his head, ears turning bright pink as he shuffles his feet, mumbles, “It’s nothin’, just some ideas.”

Silence stretches out between them, Tony thoughtfully chewing his bottom lip as he weighs his options. Eventually he ventures, “I could introduce you to some people who’d love to work with your ideas. You’re a student, right?”

Bucky nods dumbly, a little disbelieving. “Biomechanical engineering, yeah.”

“Perfect!” Tony exclaims, clapping his hands together and then somewhat sheepishly smoothing the wrinkles back out of the paper he’d still been holding. “I have this friend, Bruce, he has a temper but mostly he’s a big softie, I swear. He offers internships, paid and everything. I mean, the money isn’t all that great, but I hear it’s enough to cover expenses and if they like you, you’ve got a job after you graduate which, in this economy, is not to be taken for granted.”

Bucky continues to blink rapidly, mouth opening and closing without actually producing any sound.

Tony’s heart sinks. “Too much? Please, say something? Anything?”

“Why would you do this?” Bucky demands, but not cruelly, not unkindly.

“I like you,” Tony shrugs, scratching at the back of his head just to have something to do. “And, no offense, but you don’t exactly look like you’re swimming in cash. You probably wouldn’t have to do that dancing stuff anymore, either. Unless you want to, of course, that’s fine, I don’t mind. Not that it’s my place to mind and, shit, you can stop me any time now, please.”

“Nah,” Bucky drawls, “I think the rambling’s kinda cute, to be honest.”

Grinning, he shoves Tony to sit in the chair properly, planting his knees on either side of Tony’s hips and sliding his fingers into Tony’s hair, lips brushing Tony’s as he asks, “You mean it?”

“Of course I do,” Tony whispers, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s waist, shuddering when Bucky’s tongue darts out for a teasing lick over the corner of his mouth.

“Shit,” Bucky moans and surges forward, firmly pressing their lips together, “I feel like Vivian fuckin’ Ward, this is unreal.”

“Very real,” Tony promises and deepens the kiss.

* * *

“You got yourself a sugar daddy?” is Steve’s conclusion after Bucky finishes his story, mouth pressed into a thin line to keep himself from laughing.

“Shut up,” is Bucky’s clever comeback, combined with a cushion he hurls at Steve’s face. Fondly, he adds, “Asshole.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, go check out my other [work](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Potrix/works), visist [imaginetonyandbucky](http://imaginetonyandbucky.tumblr.com/), or come say hi on [tumblr](http://potrix-the-queerschlaeger.tumblr.com/).


End file.
